Or Not To Be
by whitetyger123
Summary: Having been forgotten most of his life, Matthew's thoughts are on a spiral downward. AU, rated M for lots of things, including suicidal thoughts and actions, and language.


How to end a life? They are such fragile things, so easily snuffed out, but how to actually end one? To think about it, to dream about it, to talk about it, but to actually take it? Well, that requires courage. Often, when about to end it, the person will hesitate. Not want to go through with it. And, what if it's too late already, right when you change your mind?

This is what Matthew Jones was thinking when he wandered the halls of the school. Surrounded by people, yet completely alone. Voices all around him, but none directed _at_ him. Of course, for who would want to talk to the boring twin, the _shy_ twin, when they could talk to the most popular guy in the school? Even if their features were the same, if anyone even bothered looking at the younger of the two, they might see his dead eyes, his longing glances at other people. Possibly, even, the fading marks he tried to hide on his wrists, new ones added almost every day.

But no one would see those, even if he didn't constantly wear hoodies with long sleeves so they were never revealed. After all, no one ever looked at him.

He sometimes heard whispers. _That is his brother? No, it couldn't be. Surely, someone related to Alfred Jones would be more... likable._ They would never know that Matthew never called himself by his proper last name. He wasn't a part of his family, not really. He could always feel it, so he fashioned himself a new last name. Williams. That explained easily why he wasn't like Alfred. They might have the same genes, but they weren't even from the same planet.

How were their personalities so different? Matthew could see the question in people's eyes, when they bothered remembering his existence. Well, he wondered that himself. Maybe if he was the first born, it would have been different, but as it was the dreary blond was surprised he wasn't forgotten in the womb, to die, never seeing the light, never being seen by anyone. That would have suited him just fine, because then he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of life.

William Shakespeare, the reason Matthew had chosen Williams as his fabricated last name, said it best. To be, or not to be. That really was the question he found himself plagued with day after day. It was a mystery how a man so far before his time knew him so well.

So that is what he found himself wondering. Was it better to keep living this half life, as a ghost? Or to end it all, so everyone else could continue living their lives in peace?

The bell rang, so he went to class. For a second, he thought about how if he was late, perhaps eyes would for once fall on him, but immediately banished the idea. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. After all, Matthew had to get perfect grades. If he did, then his father might smile at him. It was a possibility, even if it hadn't happened so far.

Remembering the last report card they had received, the blond sat down in his desk. He had gotten straight As, and had thought Father would be proud. Having it clenched in his hand, he had walked in the door, to see Father demanding to see Al's report card. After seeing the near F in Biology, Matthew's report card had been quickly forgotten. To try and get him to see it, he had placed it on the desk their Father always used, returning the next day to find it under a book and a stack of other papers. Next, in a burst of audacity, he had put it on the fridge, with a magnet. After a few days, it fell down, under the mass of white metal.

He listened throughout the class, wondering when it would be over. Not that he had anything to do after. He would just go home, as always. Probably study for most of the night, and hope they remembered to make a plate of food for him.

Finally the bell rang, and there was a mad rush for the door. As always Matthew trailed behind, packing up his things, not wanting to get in anyone's way. He was the last in the class room, at least that was what he thought. There was a light tap on his shoulder, so he jumped and turned around, seeing his grinning brother.

"Hey, after school today, I was gonna take some friends downtown. You ok with walking home?" The reason he was asking was because for his last birthday, Alfred had gotten a car. Matthew got books.

"Yeah." The shy blond said, lowering his head to not look into those dazzling blue eyes. In truth, he hated walking home, because the ride to and from school was really the only time it was ever just the two of them. Not that they spoke, even then.

"Great. Tell dad I'll be late." The charismatic twin said before leaving. Tell dad? How was he supposed to do that, when practically the only thing he ever said to the man was sometimes mentioning he was Matthew, whenever he mistook him for Alfred.

Out in the halls, he made his way to a practically abandoned staircase, where he usually went upstairs for his classes. It was a good place, because he never ran into people there. But before he got even one step up, a loud, unfamiliar voice rang in the halls. "Alfred! Get the fuck over here, you son of a bitch!"

The younger twin kept walking. He wasn't Alfred, and he didn't want to interfere with something, anyway. He wouldn't be able to do anything, and would probably just get trampled when someone didn't see him.

A hand on his shirt, spinning him around, and the next thing Matthew knew, he was on the ground, the side of his face erupting in pain. A man with dark skin and dreadlocks was standing over him.

"I was fucking talking to you, so don't you run away! You stole my girlfriend, you ass!" He was yelling down at him, face twisted in anger.

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Matthew's stomach. It wasn't because it felt like his jaw was broken, or that this man looked like he wanted him dead. It was nothing like that, because it was happiness. Someone noticed him, enough to do something. He was being spoken to by someone outside of his family, even if he was mistaken for his brother and punched.

The tall man bent down, holding the collar of Matthew's previously-unwrinkled shirt. "I'm talking to you." He said firmly. No one interfered, no one even seemed to care.

"Oh... wait... you're not..." A look of realization dawned on the man's face. This couldn't be the Alfred he knew, this man was too... too... pitiful! The bell rang for the next class, so he glanced around and stepped over the boy he had just punched, running down the hallway.

Matthew scurried over to a wall, curling his legs up and huddling them close. The hallway was beginning to empty, but he sat there, not having the heart to get up. Silent tears travelled down his face, not from the pain of being punched, but from the pain of life. Everyone wanted his brother. It would have been better if he had never been born. Then Alfred wouldn't have to hide the fact from his friends that he had such a pathetic brother. People wouldn't have the annoyance of having to sit beside him in a full class, or having to go around him in the hall. His father wouldn't have to feed him, and they would have an extra room for whatever they wanted. Their mother, when she was alive, wouldn't have had to go through the pains of having twins, and then she might have lived longer.

There was no one in the hallway anymore, so he slowly got up. There was no point in heading to class, because he was late already. The first time in his life, the first spot on his record. There was now no chance of Father recognizing him, because being the perfect son was the only thing he could ever do. But he wasn't perfect anymore. Surely he would be hated by his teachers, and Father, and anyone that saw his now-bruised face.

So instead he started walking home. There would be no one there at this hour, surely. His thoughts returned to what they had been earlier, but with a slight change. Now, it wasn't so much the method, or if he could do it, but it was how he wanted to be found. It would be easier for everyone if he did it in his room. No one would check there until it started stinking, because his door was as invisible as he was. Alfred and their Father could continue living life as they always did, without him.

Or, and a sadistic smile spread on his face as he thought of this, he could do it in the most horrifying, visible way, right where they could see it. Then they would be forced to admit his existence, forced to see what they had done. For a while at least, Matthew Williams would be the person most on their minds.

* * *

The guy with the dreads is Cuba, if you didn't guess that.

Well, I will probably have only one more chapter of this story, but I just wanted feedback from you guys. Good ending or bad? I know most of you want a good ending, but you have to think if it would really fit with this story or not. Well, please review with your answer, and I will put the next chapter up based on those votes!


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